


Moonage Daydream

by buckycap



Series: Till the End of the Line Pal [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics), captain america: the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2282325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckycap/pseuds/buckycap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's mind is stuck on the kiss from the beach, despite the fact that it feels like a dream. Then he gets a visitor and Steve realises maybe it's not so bad to cling to the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonage Daydream

**Author's Note:**

> *hums* I cannot express how much I adore Stucky, and I was so torn between a desperate, tearful reunion and some scathing comments and Bucky acting like a cat. I settled on this and I hope you enjoy!

            When Steve woke up, it wasn't gravel digging into his back but soft sheets in a too soft bed. There was music to his right and when he cracked open an eye, a friend to his left. He couldn't resist the hoarse words of ' _On your left_ ' when he regained his voice and enough sense to work out left from right. The smile Sam gave him was one of tight humour and relief. Steve was alive and that was the first step in making sure everything was alright in the world. Sam had personally gone looking for the shield, yet part of him feels like he was led to where it lay on the side of the river that he was positive that he had checked. Regardless, watching Steve's gaze land on the shield and the smile that spread across his lips was one of the most rewarding things.  
  
            Of course there was a lot more at stake that just Steve's life. With Natasha busy making sure the rest of the Government didn't come crashing through the walls to arrest both of them, Sam took it upon himself to be Steve's carer. Steve tried his best to protest but Sam Wilson is a hard man to make drop a bone one his teeth are well and truly in. He rarely strayed from Steve's side, helped him eat and drink and even assisted in changing his catheter which Steve was grateful for.  
  
            "It's quite refreshing not to be over taken 6 times in one morning run by the same guy," Sam joked one morning when he'd finished helping a nurse clean Steve's wounds. Steve had swatted him a way with a grin and while it was easy to slip into the old banter, there was still one thing on his mind that was never letting up. It was a constant throb behind his eyes, untouched by any painkiller or sleep. He hadn't mentioned it to Sam or his nurse, because it felt too private and Steve was sure he would be told to let go.  
  
            It was late in the evening on the third day when Sam finally left to go home and shower. Steve makes a thousand promises that yes he will be fine and no he doesn't want anything other than for Sam to take care of himself. When the door closes, Steve's eyes follow and he lets his head fall back onto the pillow. It's somewhat of a relief to finally be able to focus on his own thoughts without some misplaced fear of being overheard, and of course within seconds he's back to thinking about the warm press of lips over his own when he was barely conscious. The mouth had been achingly familiar and even now he wishes he had gathered enough energy to just return the kiss, to show that he remembered something from his side but he'd been too weak. The only clear memory he had was of Bucky-- James, whatever he goes by now, walking away from him. He had a shift now, he leaned to his left and as Steve lays there mulling it over, he wonders if it's because of the arm or simply because he was injured. He's not sure. Steve lets out a sigh and opens his eyes, staring up into the dulling light before he cast a glance over to the window; and promptly freezes up. He was used to seeing the skyline and at night as an artist he could appreciate the beauty of it despite how different it was. Only this time, there was someone standing there in his room. Steve's heart lurched on the monitor and his expression tightens from irritation that he's hooked up to so many machines. The figure doesn't move and Steve glances towards the door. He didn't even hear it move, how on earth did he get in here? His shield is the second place Steve looks but the stranger is between them and there was a bigger chance of the stranger injuring Steve before he reaches it. So his only choice is to sit this through and let it play out.  
  
            "What do you want?" Always a better question to ask in Steve's opinion, asking for a who never got anywhere good and only preceded in making the asker look stupid. If the man could just come closer and give more light onto his face, Steve would know what or who he was dealing with. Naturally his mind went to HYDRA, yet that idea was scrapped the moment the figure moved his left arm and a twisting familiarity settled in Steve's gut when he heard the gently whirring of mechanics.  
  
            "Bucky..."  
  
            The name slipped forward before he could stop himself and Steve was sure his heart skipped a beat. So many questions were rising up on his tongue but mainly, was Bucky here to finish the job? Had HYDRA got to him first and done whatever they did to him that made him so... different? Bucky had yet to make a noise, only moving to pull the hood down of his hoodie and turn dark eyes onto Steve. There was still a part of the assassin that was screaming out, along with the rest of the noise, that he should kill him. Listing off ways he could do it here and now and make it look like an accident but he didn't. Whatever had happened to him, the feeling that Steve had awoken that day stayed firmly in his chest and refused to shift. With the hood out the way, the bruises from their fight were revealed bright on his skin, his hair hanging limply framing his drawn face and haunted eyes.  
  
            "Enemies I understand." Bucky's broken voice cut through the beeping silence left in wake of Steve's word, Steve wincing at how  _unused_  his friend's voiced sounded, like he had barely spoken. It reminded him of the helicarrier though Bucky's voice held a lot less anger. Steve wet his own lips, searching for words; was it a question?  
  
            "But you?" Bucky continued, his chin jutting out as if to intimidate but Steve was reminded of a terrified animal trying to show that it still had power left. "I don't know what you are." The words tumbled from Bucky, a shake at the end and he took a step forward, his movements still careful and controlled despite the way his eyes couldn't seem to focus, despite the mess of noises in his mind. To him, Steve was an anomaly he couldn't get a hold on and it was frustrating. There were no rules, no regulations to follow when it came to this and James was shamefully grasping at straws trying to find some sort of structure.   
  
            "I'm your friend," Steve murmured slowly, almost as if he was afraid of frightening Bucky away. It wasn't quite what he had expected but he was going to do what he could to make sure this didn't escalate. The bed creaked as he braced himself and pushed, trying to sit further up the bed and hide the flash of pain that darted across his face but from the way James was staring at him, he figured he was unsuccessful.  
  
            "I don't have friends," James replied, tone flat and void of all emotion. The Asset didn't have friends, he didn't have family. He was a weapon, he was what Pierce used when things were bad, he helped Pierce and saved the--

            No... no that was wrong. If it was right then why was he here? James shook his head a little and swallowed hard. "Sorry, there's so many..." He pressed a knuckle to his temple and pushes, twisting as if trying to bore into his own skull to quieten whatever is happening in there. Steve watches, his heart breaking at the agitated way James stands, the way he's apologising when that word should never slip from his mouth. He opens his mouth to speak but Bucky cuts in again and Steve is left staring.  
  
            "This is your fault. I went to my rendezvous and no one came for me. I went to the safe house and I waited, for three days I waited and no one came for me! There's always... always someone but not this time. I think it's because I didn't kill you, that's the only reason... the only reason." As he spoke, James started to pace, his hands coming together then flying apart, pointing an accusing finger at Steve then back together, trying to separate what he knew and what his gut was telling him. That no one was ever coming. Steve, thinking it wise not to say a word about the fall of HYDRA, grasped onto a smaller aspect of Bucky's words.

            "Are you going to kill me now?" It was enough to stop the pacing and James' dark eyes turned back to him, lips pressing together and Steve can practically see the teeth pressing down. He wants to tell him to stop but he has no idea how.

            "No," James says eventually, clearly very troubled by his decision. "When I fail, and I  _never_  fail but there's always someone to help, to re-plan. But no one came. No one..." It's then that Steve see's Bucky. Not the Winter Soldier, not an assassin or a murderer but his dear friend, his dear lover broken down and exhausted searching for some sort of direction. He looked broken, torn down and utterly exhausted and Steve would even venture to say on the verge of tears. But he couldn't allow those thoughts, not yet.  
  
            "Is that why you won't kill me? Because no one's told you to do it again?" The question draws narrowed eyes from James and he shakes his head.

            "I--... no, I need to talk to--... there's always someone there but you're... I don't understand you," he repeats. There was anger building, anger directed at Steve because he was asking things that James wasn't sure he knew the answer to. No one asked him questions, he's never expected to know anything, just do. So now that the man from the bridge all that time ago is shoving into his mind, into his chest, he's not sure he can take it.            

            "Why did you come here Bucky?" Steve was pushing now. His friend was not docile, his friend was strong and Steve was pushing for a reaction."Was it to kiss me again?" The look on James' face made it clear that the assassin had though Steve was unaware of that little event and his eyes go wide, mouth hanging open uselessly before he takes a step away from the bed.  
  
            "I came because--" Because he wanted answers? Because he was hurt and when he was hurt he would always go to Steve? Because Steve was the only face in the world that held any meaning for him since he'd seen Pierce dead in a newspaper? Or because Steve was his mission and mission's were familiar? He couldn't choose which one was right and the war was clear, so much so that James' posture shifted inwards as if he was in pain. "I don't know. To see.... to see if my mission was ongoing?" It's a question and Steve is so close to ripping the tubes out his arm and tackling Bucky regardless of consequence. But before anyone else can move, before anyone else can even breath, the door opens and in walks Sam.  
  
            "Y'know I'm getting real tired of the black guy and friend chick--" He freezes, a box of food in his hands that quickly slips free when he catches sight of Bucky. His hand moves to the weapon tucked into his jeans but James is too fast. A metal closed fist punch to Sam's jaw sends him sprawling and the assassin darts out the door, leaving Steve to stare after him then at his friend who picked himself up with a groan and rubbed his jaw.  
  
            "What the hell did he want?"  
  
            "...-he's lost."


End file.
